


Ophelia's Chamber

by tablelamp



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-05-20 18:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: He visited me in my chamber.  This much you know.  But I think you have never seen me without my father also in the room, and thus perhaps you have never seen me.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



He visited me in my chamber. This much you know. But I think you have never seen me without my father also in the room, and thus perhaps you have never seen me.

My lord Hamlet was upset when he arrived at my chamber; something unknown but dreadful had clearly befallen him. He leaned against my door to weigh it shut, and I believe without the support of the door, he might not have been able to remain standing. There was a strange light to his eyes and a tremor in his hands. I had never seen him like this before, and wondered much at it.

"My lord, what's the matter?" I asked, setting aside my sewing.

"Lady Ophelia," he said, his voice rough, his eyes never leaving my face, "I have seen such things tonight."

I moved to his side. "Are you well? What happened?"

He moved to speak, then seemed conflicted. "I should not tell you."

I tried to be playful with him, to put him at his ease. "Wherefore should you not? Do you doubt my loyalty?"

"Your loyalty, no," Hamlet said, "but..." And his eyes strayed in the direction of my father's rooms.

My father is a good man, but he is perhaps overzealous in his cautions. And in his speeches. "I can dissemble if I must. Speak to me. Tell me what has unnerved you so."

Hamlet took a deep breath. "Tonight I saw my father. His ghost walks the battlements."

I gasped. "For what purpose? Did he appear to bid you goodbye?"

Hamlet seemed even more miserable. "He bids me avenge his murder."

"Was he murdered? I'd thought--"

"So had I," Hamlet interrupted, "but 'tis not so. He says my uncle has slain him."

I began to understand his discomposure of mind. "Your uncle the king?"

"Even so," Hamlet said.

Accusing the king of murder was not a threat to be made lightly. "Such words are treason."

"They are my father's," Hamlet said, looking as though he might laugh from nerves alone. "What hurt can come to him now?"

I sought some escape for Hamlet, some release from what the ghost had told him. "And you are sure it was your father?"

"He declared himself so," Hamlet said. "Who else might he be?"

"I've heard," I said hesitantly, "that spirits can take whatever shape they please. Suppose 'tis not your father, but a spirit bent on mischief?"

But Hamlet shook his head. "He knew the particulars of his own death too well for that. And he spoke of his love for my mother."

"Not of his love for you?" I could not imagine my own father appearing to me as a ghost without speaking so.

Hamlet had not considered this, and I could tell the consideration injured him. "There was no time."

"'Tis no matter," I said, taking his arm. I had not meant to cause him pain. "What will you do?"

"I must do what my father has bid me do," Hamlet said.

"Why? My father means to rule over me, yet I'll not always do his bidding," I said, attempting a jest as I led Hamlet to a chair.

He nearly fell into it. "But what's the cost? If my uncle lives, he wins, and none will punish him."

"Heaven will punish him," I said. "Is that not enough?"

Hamlet stared at me. "Would it be enough if your father had been murdered?"

The thought froze my blood. "No. It would not." I sat beside him. "What will you do?"

"I had not thought on it," Hamlet said. "I have sworn Horatio and the guards to secrecy."

I could not understand. "For what reason? Surely the report of your father's ghost upon the battlements would reach a guilty heart. If others knew the ghost had spoken, would not the murderer have every reason to fear the ghost might have divulged the truth to someone?"

Hamlet looked thoughtful. "He might indeed." Then he frowned. "But the ghost was most adamant that they swear."

I refrained from telling Hamlet that, had I planned some form of revenge that he should deliver, I should have described to him the details of that revenge, rather than merely insisting on revenge and secrecy. "I have not sworn."

Hamlet did not like the idea. "I refuse to put you in danger."

"I'll not be the source," I said. "I'll explain that I've heard the tale mentioned myself, and so deny anyone its authorship."

Hamlet appeared dubious. "Will it work?"

I hid a smile. Clearly he was unfamiliar with the ways of court gossip. I'd seen sworn secrets spread throughout the court within the hour, and throughout the land within the day. "I've seen it done before."

He smiled then for the first time in our meeting. "Many thanks." He stood, and I was pleased to see that his fear seemed to have subsided. I hoped that the success of our plan would serve to put his mind even further at rest, and he appeared to hope for the same thing. "I'll return to you soon, that we may see how our enterprise has fared."

"My door is always unbarred to you, my lord," I said.

He gave me a saucy look. "Is it?" He approached me, looking into my eyes. "Does your father know?"

"Go to," I said, laughing and moving even closer to him. "You are too bold."

"As bold as she who unbars her door? I think not, my lady," he said.

"Hush," I said, kissing him.

He took me by the wrist and held me there, gently. "I love you."

"I love you," I said. He had sworn as much before, but there was a new gravity in his words, and I meant to match it, if I could.

He kissed me. "I must go before I'm seen. If your father should discover I was here--"

"I'll tell him you arrived and were utterly silent," I said, resisting the urge to kiss him again. "And so, farewell."

He bowed and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

He returned to my chamber some days later, an expression of cautious hope on his face.

I kissed him in greeting, then affected innocence. "You have heard the tale of the king's ghost at court?"

"I have," Hamlet said. "Horatio was much confounded by it. He came to me and swore he had not broken his oath; I told him I knew as much. The tale is told, but have you seen any effects of it?"

"Members of the court all wonder at it," I said. "My father spent twenty minutes regaling the king with his certainty that ghosts were not possible, else he should have seen my mother years ago."

Hamlet touched my cheek with his fingertips. "The poor old man."

I drew away from his touch, for I did not want to talk about my mother. "The queen spoke to me of the ghost this morning."

This was what Hamlet had come to hear, and he sat, attempting to hide his eagerness. "Indeed?"

"She wished to know if I'd seen any sign of the king your father's ghost. I told her I had not. She fell into a great silence, and then, after much consideration, asked me if I believed the tale. I told her my belief should play no role in her opinion, but for my part, I did believe it. Then she wondered aloud why the ghost had not appeared to her."

Hamlet looked stunned. "Know you if she wishes to see him?"

"I think she wishes it and fears it," I said, sitting beside him. "Quiet spirits never walk the night."

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. "I had not thought of him coming to her. He may yet. But he asked me to leave her out of whatever bloody plans I might conceive for my uncle. Perhaps she did not know his mind." He took my hand. "Horatio tells me the king is considering a pilgrimage to the battlements himself. If it be so, I'll follow him and hear what may be said."

I covered his hand with my own. "I pray you, do not. Send Horatio or some other loyal friend. Send me if you must, but do not go."

Hamlet bristled at my suggestion, withdrawing his hand from mine. "This matter most closely touches me, and you would have me wait for intelligence from another?"

"I know not what powers spirits may have," I said, "but if the king your father meets the king your uncle, is't not certain your father will take his own revenge, if he can?"

Hamlet understood. "And if I am alone, and the king dead, there's one place for suspicion to fall." He sighed. "Forgive me. I should not have doubted you."

"You are tired," I said gently. I had seen the signs of it in his bearing--his rounded shoulders and heavy-laden eyes.

"'Tis true," Hamlet said. "I have not slept these many nights." He laughed at himself quietly. "There's something uneasy in me, something that walks the battlements at night with my father."

"Then let it rest here with me. All things must take their rest, even ghosts." I gave him an affectionate look. "Even you."

Hamlet shook his head. "I cannot think what should befall us next. My uncle dead? Ay, and so, my mother loses another husband. Then who is king?"

"Is that the worst?" I had always thought Hamlet would be a good and just king.

"I knew 'twould come but I did not look for the honor so soon," Hamlet said. "Then would I meet Fortinbras, and arrange other affairs of state."

I stood, crossing to embrace him. "I believe you would do well."

He held me in turn. "It overcomes me."

"It will always overcome you if you do not sleep," I said, taking his hand. "Come to bed."

Hamlet sighed. "I have no heart for such things now."

"You mistake my meaning. I ask for no pleasure from you," I said. "Come rest upon my bed, and I will rest beside you."

That won a weary smile from him. "Would that it were another day, and I could cherish you as you deserve."

"That day will come," I said. "For now, you need the relief of sleep, and I believe it can be provided."

I led him slowly to my bed, and he followed. We lay beside each other, shy in our sudden modesty, but after a moment, he crept into my arms and held me close. His body's warmth made me drowsy where before I had been quite awake. I whispered soft, sweet words into his ear, and he was soon asleep, as was I.


	3. Chapter 3

When next I opened my door to him, he was out of breath, leaning against the doorframe. "It is ended."

I bid him enter the room, closing the door behind him. "What has befallen?"

"Horatio witnessed all," Hamlet said. "Claudius visited the battlements, and my father appeared. Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus contrived in secret to follow him, that they might witness what should happen. As he did for me, the ghost gestured for my uncle to follow. Horatio and the guards followed him, and Horatio says the very stars seemed to vanish above as the two of them passed."

I could almost see the scene before me. "Did they speak?"

"Claudius did. He tried to engage the spirit, to challenge it. Horatio says the spirit would not speak. My uncle asked him why he had appeared, and the spirit gave him such a look that even my uncle's voice died in his throat. They walked to the edge of the battlements, and the ghost took one step more, and vanished."

"And your uncle?"

"He moved to leave, but Horatio says something unseen held him. He struggled in vain, and finally cried, 'Brother, let me go!' There was a voice then, so loud it shook the very stones in the walls, and it said, 'Brother, you must speak truth or follow me.' Then the force that held him pushed him to the edge."

I gasped. "Oh Heaven! Then he is dead?"

Hamlet shook his head. "It was then the cock crew. At once the spirit's powers vanished. But the king was so affrighted he repaired to the queen's chamber and told her all."

"The poor queen," I said.

"Horatio said she was very quiet, and then told Claudius he should have waited, as she was prepared to do."

"There's a story in that," I said thoughtfully, trying to fit the pieces together. She and Claudius must have loved each other before the king's death--for how long, I could not tell, but it seemed she was innocent of her second husband's plans.

"I dare not think on it," Hamlet said. I understood. He loved his father.

"What will become of Claudius?" I asked.

"He is held prisoner and is no longer king," Hamlet said.

My breath caught. Should I have been more formal at this meeting? "Then you are..."

Hamlet smiled, touching my cheek. "No. My mother and I spoke, and she will keep the throne and rule alone. She says I will advise her, but I think she needs little advising. She has ruled beside my father and my uncle; I do believe she is well matched to the task."

I smiled. "And you are pleased not to be king."

"Most pleased," Hamlet said, moving closer. "Though you will make a good queen one day."

"Only if you promise you have no brother," I said. "I'm quite overcome with court intrigue after this."

"I have no brother," Hamlet said playfully, "but you have. Need I be wary of him?"

I laughed. "Only treat me kindly, and you will see how he is satisfied."

Hamlet held me close. "My one desire is to treat you kindly, my lady."

I kissed him in thanks. "Then all will be well, my lord."

And so it has been.


End file.
